


Silent Memories

by Livy1391



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock - Fandom
Genre: Cemetery, F/M, Fluff, Memories, Mycroft is soft, Nap Time, Observations, Reader is deaf, Sketchbook, Takes Place After TRF, Tumblr request
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-05
Updated: 2019-04-05
Packaged: 2020-01-05 01:12:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18355553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Livy1391/pseuds/Livy1391
Summary: Tumblr Request (by @letysg0):Hi! I was wondering if you could do something about Mycroft and a deaf reader... I was thinking about it when I saw some stupid-ass memes hsjdhshd





	Silent Memories

Mycroft entered his manor, shutting the door softly behind him. Mycroft placed his keys on the hook which he always used to hold his keys, placing his umbrella on the designated stand below it. With a gentle sigh, Mycroft made his way to the stairwell, walking up a few steps with soft, careful movements. 

Upon reaching the top of the steps, Mycroft turned left to walk down the long hall to his bedroom. He smiled softly to himself as he opened the door, hoping to see you so infatuated in a book you were reading, or maybe watching the telly with subtitles on. He hoped to see you snuggled up in the duvet, your hair somewhat messy, and maybe even a little selfishly did he hope to come in while you were taking a shower. 

He hadn't expected to walk in and see you sleeping so peacefully, your head resting on his pillow and your body curled up into a ball. Mycroft couldn't help the slight sense of worry that washed over him at that moment.

Mycroft had left work fairly early, planning on spending some time with you, something he seemed to lack doing- which he knew he had to make up for. So, upon seeing you sleeping at such an unusual time for you, he couldn't help but wonder what had gotten you so tired. 

Walking over to you, he quickly deduced why. The small paint specks scattered across your arms, the way you laid your hand flat on the bed, signaling that you wanted to rest it. You had been working on a project for quite some time, and every time you finished Mycroft had noticed that you had outdone yourself. His worry finally subsided as he then realized that you simply needed the time to nap, and he decided that he'd join you in such an activity.

So, after placing a kiss to your temple, Mycroft made his way over to his wardrobe, removing his tie and placing it neatly in its designated spot. Removing his blazer, he grabbed one of his hangers and placed the blazer on it, hanging it on a bar which had all of his other expensive clothing. He took his shoes off next, placing them on a shelf beside his other leather shoes. 

Minutes passed and he had finished changing completely, now he was simply in a black t-shirt and some sweatpants which he usually fell asleep in. Humming softly to himself, he got in the bed beside you, smiling softly. Wrapping his arms around your torso, he sighed contently. 

You smiled softly to yourself, not even realizing you had done such a thing. However, this was a rare affectionate moment from Mycroft, and even in your sleeping state, you knew that this was his way of making up for lost time. But, you also knew this was his way of escaping the stress of working as a government official. 

Mycroft carefully pulled you closer to him, your back resting against his chest, and he couldn't help but smile widely. Mycroft kisses the back of your head, closing his eyes as he took in the scent of paint that lingered on you, signaling that you hadn't showered after you finished painting. Mycroft didn't seem to care, the smell of paint on you was fairly common anyways, actually, it more so relaxed him if anything.

Mycroft slowly brought his hand up to your arm, his fingers ghosting over the skin, caressing it softly. He trailed his fingers up to your biceps, back down to your forearms. He continued to do that, a smile on his face the entire time he had and slowly he started to drift off to sleep alongside you, memories from his past being the only thing circling his mind.

•

It was a spring day in London, the heat from the sun was a comforting warm and allowed Mycroft to feel somewhat comfortable in the blazer he was wearing. He was in a cemetery, visiting a grave with a few others- who you later found out were Mrs. Hudson and a John Watson. 

The grave in which he stood upon was made with a shiny black stone, polished so that you could see your reflection in the stone. The name upon the grave, 'Sherlock Holmes', would cause much chaos later on in both your life and Mycroft's.

However, at that moment Mycroft stood in front of the grave, his brothers grave, a sigh leaving his lips as he listened to the sobs of Mrs. Hudson behind him. He closed his eyes, taking in all the sounds around him, all of his senses sharp as he took a deep breath. The burden (which he only acknowledged now as one) he had of knowing his brother was alive, and it would not be such a burden if it wasn't for the fact that he could hear the pained sobs coming from behind him. The sobs in which he hated to hear, and not simply from Mrs. Hudson, but he learned later on that he hated them because of you as well. 

His thoughts faded away as he heard the footsteps walking up to him and a hand rest on his shoulder. Turning his head, he realized who it was that placed the hand upon his shoulder- or rather he knew long before due to the footstep pattern. 

As he looked at John, his pale blue eyes focused completely on the man which had just placed a hand upon him, he waited to hear what it was that he John was going to say.

"I do believe it is best Mrs. Hudson and I leave," John started, sighing gently before continuing, "and I think it is best you do as well. Staying here for too long brings too much pain for even you to handle I am sure."

Mycroft gave John and nod, "I will," he assured John. Mycroft watched as John nodded before he walked off and lead Mrs. Hudson back towards Baker Street. Mycroft stood in front of the grave for a few more minutes, all his thoughts coming back to him before he sighed and spun on his heel, his umbrella digging into the grass.

He took a step forward his umbrella sinking into the ground with every step he took before raising a brow as he saw a shadow to his right. Turning his head, he saw you, your back towards him as you looked at a grave, a sketchbook in your hands. 

Mycroft walked over to you- something he then didn't understand why, but now was so thankful he had -and standing behind you, he read the name upon the gravestone. 

You noticed the shadow that had hovered over you and turning your head you saw Mycroft behind you. Becoming startled at the fact that a stranger who you have never met before was standing behind you, you yelped, instantly standing and turning to look at the man. 

Mycroft, who had stepped back after you had yelped, looked over you with an intense stare. He hummed softly as he realized one important detail. The way your eyes kept flickering to his mouth, a sign that you were waiting for him to speak so that you could read his lips. Another sign was the fact that your ears twitched slightly, signaling that your brain must have been searching for some sort of sound to hear. 

Sighing, Mycroft hooked his umbrella to his forearm so that he could perform sign language properly. 

'Forgive me for startling you, I was simply visiting a grave when I noticed you sitting on the ground in front of this grave,' Mycroft signed, looking up at you for a reply.

You were completely taken aback because not only did this man know you were deaf, but he knew sign language as well. 

'Sorry, I just didn't expect somebody to be standing behind me, especially somebody I don't know,' you signed back, your brows furrowed in question.

Mycroft sighed, nodding his head in understanding. 'Right, I do apologize for interrupting you abruptly, I simply saw you sitting on the floor with your sketchbook and got curious. I guess I was still processing my thoughts and not the outcome of my actions,' he explained, giving you a small apologetic smile. 

'No need for an apology sir, I understand. Visiting a loved one is always hard, that's why I draw while I'm here, it keeps me distracted from memories and focused on the drawing,' you replied, gesturing to the sketchbook which rested on the ground beside your foot. 

Mycroft nodded softly in understanding, hoping that he had a similar tactic, something that could distract his thoughts. However, when your a genius such as he is, it becomes hard to do such a thing when you have become accustomed to the circling around in your head. 

'I understand Miss,' Mycroft signed, assuring you that he did, in fact, understand, noticing the way you shifted in discomfort, having thought that what you said was too personal. 'I should introduce myself, Mycroft Holmes.' 

'Y/N L/N.'

•

Mycroft smiled in his sleep, the thought of the first time they had met six years ago always being one of his favorites. Although the setting of the meeting was rather unfortunate, the interaction had always been a pleasure to him. After that, his entire world changed. He had found out that you went to the cemetery every Saturday, and often times Mycroft would be there. 

Although you thought it was rather strange and honestly alarming how often he had just mysteriously bumped into you, you both laugh about it now. It had become obvious as the years passed Mycroft had become intrigued by you within the first meeting. Why that is, not even the Ice Man- as he is so called -knows. It was strange, plain and simple. 

Yet, time moved forward and the more frequently Mycroft visited the cemetery when you did, the quicker you caught on. Finally, you had signed to him that you should both go out to a café to simply communicate with one another in a proper location. 

He had agreed and that had become the usual routine for a few months. You'd both visit the cemetery, spend some time visiting the grave before heading off with each other to a nearby café, sometimes a bakery. 

It had been the eight-time you both went out when Mycroft finally accepting his feelings, and instead of hiding them, expressed them. 

•

Mycroft sat across from you, his elbows resting on the table, his hands folded with his chin resting upon them. He observed you with gentle eyes as you brought the cup of tea up to your lips, taking a small sip before holding the cup in front of your face for a few seconds. He watched as you let out a pleased sigh as you removed the glass from your lips. He watched the way your e/c eyes looked up at him, a sort of emotion he could tell was relief, maybe even comfort- however, he wasn't sure, seeing as he lacked information on said emotion. 

You placed the cup down and tilted your head to the side as you saw Mycroft observing you. You smiled sheepishly, wondering what it was that had Mycroft so lost in thought. A small blush made its way to your cheeks as you looked down shyly, his pale blue eyes focusing on you intently. 

He soon realized that you looked down and sighed softly, realizing that he might have made you uncomfortable. Reaching across the table, he placed his hands on top of yours softly, yours having been folded on the table. He watched as you looked up at him, and you let your hands shift so that they were holding each other’s. 

You had both stayed like that for a while, another thirty minutes or so before Mycroft paid for the order. Standing up, he grabbed his umbrella and hooked it onto his forearm, holding a hand out for you to take so that he could help you. Smiling, you placed your hand in his and he carefully helped you stand. 

He gestured for you to walk out first, a small smile on his face as he placed his hand on the small of your back. Walking with the umbrella in his left hand, his right arm hooking around your left as he walked you to your flat. 

Upon arriving there, you both turned to each other, planning on giving each other a proper goodbye before leaving. However, as you both faced each other, Mycroft raised his hand, placing his pointed finger and thumb on your cheek before kissing you softly, a slight smile on his face as he broke away, opening his eyes to look at you.

He saw the blush the dusted over your cheeks, this one much more prominent than the last, and smiled. He leaned forward, kissing your forehead before turning his back to you, walking in the opposite direction. 

You watched him leave until he was only a shadow and smiled widely as you headed into your flat. That smile only returning again when you got a text from Mycroft that night, asking if you’d like to go to dinner with him the following day.

• 

He felt a shift in the bed, and opening one eye saw that you had turned around and were looking at him, a gentle smile on your face. Mycroft opened both of his eyes now, mirroring your smile with one of his own. 

You hummed softly as Mycroft shifted his hands on your back, moving to pull you just slightly closer. Smiling still, you brought your hand up to his cheek, rubbing your thumb on it softly as you looked into his pale blue eyes. 

Leaning down to you, he kissed you softly and with care before backing away again and glancing at the time, realizing that reservations were in an hour.


End file.
